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The Extreme Experiance "Understand The Life of BDSM"

1/6/2009

Pixie liked BD/SM sites and was a frequent member. She was
popular in her own right and many of the locals and even people
abroad held her opinion in high esteem. She felt confident
in her opinions and experience was on her side. She was cautious
yet secure in her decisions. Never did she make a decision
that would put her or any of her friends in danger. She frequented
the monthly munch’s and got a lot of attention there. Never
did she commit to a D/ simply because her personality was
too strong. She knew deep down she was a submissive but there
was never a personality strong enough to carry that claim
to fame. Fifteen years she was in the lifestyle but never
committed. Oh , there were strong Dom’s that enticed her
but behind the scenes not a soul could command her. The emotions
were there but the strength just wallowed in the mire. She
was strong she was. A pillar of strength and down deep yearned
for a master. A man that would make her needs smile when he
walked into the room. One she had to with hold her emotions
out of fear that the discovery would lead to weakness, a
weakness that could be made to an advantage. That display
she knew would lead her astray. Only a true dominant would
be her master forever, and she could never give that up for
it could contaminate her bidding. Pixie was five feet nine
inches tall. Intimidating in her height and a strong muscular
build from working out made men bow to her feet. She dominated
them for fun. Although she did not find the submissive nature
of a man enticing sexually, she loved the worship of her
god like body. Her hair was blond and her eyes were so light
blue they seemed as if they did not have color. She was stunning
and usually shocked people in her first meeting. Men bowed
to her and women were silent, knowing she was straight…or
so they thought, and would never challenge the mistress
of darkness. She carried a crop around with her tempting
any man to challenger her ability. Very rarely did she get
approached, and it was only by a true masochist.


She was surfing the internet and found she received an email
on one of her sites from Dom Moser. “Dom Moser did not know
what he was getting himself into”, she said to herself and
she played. Since her pictures were blocked out she knew
he was grasping at straws and probably did not see her friends
list of 200+ people. His email read, “Tell me about you”?
At first she was kind of disgusted at the simple approach
but in the pit of her stomach due to having an irritable day
she wrote back. “Why should I”? He said “because you move
me and I don’t like to be moved”! The line was a little arrogant
but played to her arrogance. So she responded, “Get used
to it!” He said he could not and that he needed to make her
submit. The conversation continued in the normal banter
of cock sizes and she had to admit, he had something she at
least would love to see. She transferred her IM address
to him reluctantly and was accepted.


For two weeks he was nowhere to be found. She tried all the
sites and even attempted to find him in clubs but he seemed
to drop off the face of the planet. Admittedly she was disappointed
and quietly looked for him every few hours. She wanted to
be mastered and kind of smelt it in him.


Pixie was attending the local regular munch and it seemed
busy that night. Many people she did not know were there
and she had her usual two male submissive’s on leashes and
tied one to the wall where he belonged for not being ready
on time. The chaining in her manor was a little harsh because
she had a way of over handing the shackle where it left him
almost on one foot so the shackle would not cut into his wrist.
With time she knew he would bleed a little, but fuck him.
Next time he will be on time with his garb. God forbid, she
only made them wear a g-string and a harness with a collar.
She liked to show off her subs to the domita’s. She knew she
was superior to them all and only had the best of stock!


When she was finished shackling Kenstrife to the wall and
Lashing was at the sofa waiting her instruction, she reached
to grab her drink and noticed a different stirrer in it.
When she lifted it out of her glass it was black and inscribed
with the word “Moser”. Her blood ran cold, the mystery and
the stealth unto which it had to be placed. She looked at
Lashing and his black eye looked at her in wonder and he asked
“what mistress”? She back handed him and asked him if he
saw who put this stirrer in her drink. He exclaimed, “No
mistress”, and cowered to her fist. The remaining of the
night was filled with paranoia. She swore she saw people
looking at her at every turn. She struck her subs way to many
times for their own good and they cowered to her feet continually.
She did not like this mystery and how he commanded her and
he had only had a one conversation. She was way too powerful
and had too much control to feel this way. It was three weeks
from their conversation and he still had her attention.
None that she would admit to anyone, but definitely had
her attention.


It was ten o’clock on Wednesday night when her phone rang.
Kenstrife and Lashing were sleeping in their cages and
she lifted the receiver in disgust; “who is calling me at
this ungodly hour”, she exclaimed. Silence for a couple
of seconds was followed by a faint but commanding voice.
It said, “You will meet me on Friday at 10PM at the Gridiron
parking and you will be dressed submissively. She knew
the voice. Fear entered her voice only for a second and she
said, “Who the fuck do you think you are?” Although the words
were strong, her voice was not. She was angry for being taken
by surprise and showing the weakness, but it was too late.
The voice said, “You heard me!”


Following the phone call and every waking moment she was
up she spent rehearsing her approach to this arrogant Dom.
She knew this game all too well, and no man would make her
feel this way, or so she tried to convince herself. She would
never take this risk. The Gridiron was an old sports bar
down in the rough area of town. A place she used to hang out
when she was younger. She kept telling herself it was a coincidence,
but somehow she knew it was not. She could feel his power
radiating from him and knew he would better her and that
point scared her. It was a bitter sweet conflict, the conflict
of a role play that every woman experiences. Maybe it is
a secret that they like, or the boss bangs her on the
desk, but in any fashion, the fear was there and the trust
was not. Everything in her body said to not go but somehow
in the pit of her soul she knew she was going to attend. She
kept telling herself that she was going there to kick this
guy’s ass, but she really knew better. She would take her
subs, but these guys were not set up to be protectors. They
were submissive’s by nature and conflict was not on the
menu.


Friday rolled around way to fast and the fear was setting
in to the highest degree. Her body kept telling her to go
and experience and her mind was saying, “What, are you fucking
stupid?” She at least decided, although she was going to
go and break every rule she ever made for herself, she would
not dress in a submissive’s garbs.


She loaded Kenstrife and Lashing into the car and there
was silence. An uncanny silence that echoed in the cab of
the car and she kept getting the feeling that they knew something
but could not place the silence. Maybe it was because she
was so cruel three nights ago. Kenstrife’s wrists were
cut from the shackles and Lashings both eyes were black
now. She did not talk as they drove and when they arrived
she told them to sit quietly in the car and make sure she was
safe. Their posture changed and a more protective demeanor
rose to the surface. The car slowed and stopped in front
of the bar and it still looked the same. Henry was still belly
up and Mitch and Dave had their own table. She had a great
greeting when she arrived and told her friends she was meeting
someone. She did not want to tell them of the irresponsible
manner unto which she was here. She thanked them and went
and sat off in the corner. She sat there for sometime drinking Jack and Coke. The bartender
kept setting her up with a great pour and she was beginning
feeling it. She soon became irritated looking at her watch.
Where was this guy? What was he doing? Was he coming or was
he making a fool of her? When she finally decided she would
leave in disgust, someone in a black leather trench coat
walked through the door and went to the bar. She could not
make out his face but could clearly see the black leather
pants and black leather boots. Was this him? She could see
the bartender pour him a Jack and coke and it kind of made
her blood run cold. She could feel his presence and knew
it was him. She decided to wait in the corner for him to approach
her. He sat at the bar for another five or maybe ten minutes
and she again became irritated. What is this guy doing?
Who the fuck does he think he is making me wait like this.
I have almost been here for two hours. After his second drink
was placed in front of him he turned and walked toward her
table. She scolded herself for sitting in the corner because
with the direction of light she had a hard time making out
his features other than a “goat t”. When he arrived at the
table his features became more apparent. She could see
he was very dominant looking with dark hair and dark eyes.
He was dressed in all black and stood with great confidence
that was written all over him. He was somehow attractive
but a larger built man of normal height, maybe 5’-10”. He
had leather wrist bands on and when he spoke his voice was
deep and calculating. “Pixie” he said. She was about to
speak and he said, “come with me” and turned to walk away.
She was about to yell to him to stop, that she wanted to talk
first, but she could see her friends around the bar and tables
and felt to uncomfortable to do so and she stood and followed.
Instead of exiting the front of the bar he walked out the
back door that was never really used and this startled her
but she was a little intoxicated, somehow flustered and
followed foolishly.


Where were they driving? The black limo was intriguing
but the ride was over twenty minutes and she could not see
well out of the windows. Moser sat across from her in the
deep side of the limo in silence. She decided to speak, if
not out of fear, out of silence. “Hello” she said. He still
sat in silence. She asked him why he would not speak to her
and he still remained in silence. His presence was so strong
she was intimidated. She could feel the limo turn and the
road became rough as if it were dirt and she asked him where
they were going and he smiled a sinister smile and still
sat in silence. She said she would get out if he did not speak
to her and he broke with a short evil chuckle. Fear shivered
through her body. She went to grab the door handle and the
limo came to a stop. She quickly opened the door and stepped
out and noticed she was in the woods by a lake. The only lights
to be seen were a small dim light on a dilapidated house she
stood in front of. Running did not seem like an option at
this point and nobody made any effort to stop her. It was
dark and any direction she chose would probably not help,
she hated the woods. It wasn’t the darkness but the things
in it. She turned to the house and studied it. It was a single
story ranch. The siding was loose in many spots and it could
not have been painted in years. Most of the windows were
non-existent or broken. The front door was closed and the
porch was caved in many spots. The porch over the roof looked
like it was falling in at the end and the shingles were curled.
The chimney was in dire need of pointing and mold grew around
in scattered areas. There was no lawn of manicured yard
and the path to the house was not beaten. When the head lights
to the car were shut off the house grew dark and she turned
to Moser and asked, “Where the hell are we?” He said in his
low calm raspy voice, welcome to my dungeon.


“Oh no” she exclaimed, “I did not agree to this”. She lied
to him and said, “I am not submissive to men!” He smiled at
her and continued to the house. She followed behind him
bantering unheard words of denial and discuss, but somehow
deep down she was excited. This setting was one out o a horror
scene, something extreme enough to arouse her interest.
The problem was, there was no trust and she hated that. He
began to climb the entrance stairs and nobody followed
from the limo. Who was the driver and why did she come? Again
she was lying, and to herself this time. She knew down deep
why she was here. She had never been made to wait before and
she waited for him. She had never looked for a man’s response,
and she waited for his. She had never been disappointed
from absence of a man and she was to his. Somehow he had a grasp
on her soul and somehow she knew she would submit. As she
got to the top of the stairs and proceeded toward the door
he stopped her with his hand. She looked into his eyes for
the first time and they were hard. He said, “Remove your
clothes or you do not enter my lair. She looked at him with
disgust. “Who the fuck do you think you are”, she said? “Do
you know who I am?” He slapped her pretty face and told her
“I know exactly who you are, you are my Pixie and you will
remove your clothes”. He reached over and tore her shirt
open and handed her a rag to wipe the blood from her lip. She
stood in shock, bleeding from the lip and her right breast
hanging out. She had met her match alright; she was scared
to leave and scared not to listen. “Now remove your clothes”
he said and walked inside.


She touched her lip and looked at the blood on her fingers
from his strike. Although she was shocked the blood turned
her on, her endorphins were excited and wanted to see more.
Her face was flush and she could feel her pussy a little damp.
The rush of being slapped and the potential of being dominated
scared her but fear she thrived on. Never had the right guy
got her attention and this one had her. As her hands shook
she removed her shirt. Was she really doing this, submitting
for the rush? She had a hard time actuating the buttons from
her fear but she took it off although it was partially remove
to begin with. She removed her boots one buckle at a time
again fighting with them, she was shaking and was enjoying
it. When her feet were free she was not so tall, only 5’-6”.
As she pulled her last boot free she saw a blood droplet hit
her boot. Her lip was split pretty deep. She would say she
would make him pay for this but she knew he was the dominant
here and plus, she enjoyed it. She then unbuttoned her leather
pants and pulled them off of her legs revealing her underwear.
Not planning on showing them tonight they were flimsy cotton
string type, not all that pretty but somewhat revealing.
She stood there in her panties in the woods under this dimly
lit lamp and knew she was helpless and loved taking advantage
when nobody saw . Her clothes were in a pile on the floor and
the limo parked maybe 50’ away with her heart beating out
of her chest. She could feel the pulse in her neck and her
face must have been beat red with her lip bulging. She felt
her crotch to see if you could see any wetness before she
went into the house and it seemed ok and shit she needed a
good fuck to take advantage of this rise.


She stepped through the doorway and looked around. She
was standing in what seemed like an entry way hall with an
old decayed living room to the right and a dining room to
the left. The ceilings were gone in the living room with
insulation hanging down and the ceiling was hanging in
many areas of the dining room, a slight beam of light from
the porch lamp shown through the windows lighting each
room but not enough to see detail. The entry way made way
to a hallway into what maybe was the kitchen. Now bear foot
she walked down the hall cautiously toward the far room
watching each step to avoid injury. She kept touching her
swollen lip to see if she was still bleeding. As she poked
her head through the kitchen door Moser grabbed her hair
and slammed her against the wall knocking the air out of
her. She sat and grasped for breath for a minute and he got
in her face, close enough to taste his breath. He said, “I
gave you very simple directions, if you cannot follow simple
directions you will be beaten within an inch of your life!”
He then tore her cotton underwear from her hips leaving
burn marks beside her pussy but I felt good. She looked at
him in shear anger as if she was going to bite his face but
he smiled at her and said, “what do you think your angry little
face can do to me. You don’t weigh enough to move my hand my
Pixie. You are no Dimmina here. You best learn to listen
or your beatings will commence and those you will not forget.
For many years you have asked the gods to give you a dominant
and now you have met him. Kneel to me and kiss my boot” and
he grabbed her hair and forced her face to the floor and she
kissed it willingly, no man has ever achieved this willingness.



Her nipples were so hard and no longer did she worry about
wetting her underwear. Although she did want to run for
primal fear, she knew he was right and she would stay right
here. She would stay here and she would obey him. Not because
she had too, but she really wanted to. He was a gift, was it
from god, she did not know, would she get out alive; maybe.
He grabbed her hair and lifted her by it and she let out a little
scream as she rose to her feet. He said, “Resistance is futile,
I am a masochist and no one here can hear you scream and I only
like it. This will not be the only scream you scream tonight.
I want you to say my name”! “Moser”, she whispered with her
head down. He pointed to a stairwell to the basement and
told her to move and she did. This time she moved quickly
and without hesitation with a twisted hope of reluctant
pain. Her hair was partially ripped out and her lip was bleeding
and she had not even gotten to the dungeon. Her training
had started she knew, but she was not even there. He followed
her slowly as she advanced away from him not liking that
he was behind her. She was not used to the lack of trust. So
many times she had preached trust and she had none in him.
This was extreme, very extreme.


When she got to the bottom of the stairs the room was actually
lit quite well. Candles burnt in candelabras from the ceiling
in three areas. She did not expect this basement to be so
deep. The ceilings were well over eight feet and ropes,
hooks and various bondage tools hung from the walls. Eye
hooks were in the beams in the ceilings. There was a large
rough wooden table in the center of the room and all sorts
of weird racks and incline tables scattered about. What
caught her eye quickly was the cross on the corner. She was
expecting that to be her first exercise. She turned and
watched him advance down the stairs. He had removed his
shirt and he was wearing black leather pants and boots,
a chest harness and a large what looked like a weight belt
and two wrist bands. No tattoos or nothing dressed his body,
just the leather. He had this look of excitement on his face,
too much satisfaction that it scared her. She knew she would
be injured tonight, but how bad she did not know. She did
know that she wanted to be injured and she also did not know
how bad she wanted to be. This was new to her also but her twisted
mind liked the fact that she was bleeding and bleeding well.



When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he picked up two
chairs next to the wall and placed them on either side of
the table and motioned for her to sit and she did quietly.
He put two glasses down from an old wooden cupboard and poured
Jack Daniels straight into the glasses, picked one up and
handed it to her and picked the other up and drank from it.
She could tell that he was feeding off of her fear although
it was residing a little. He sat opposite her and said, “This
could be painful, or real painful, depends on you.” She
just nodded yes. He said to her that he would allow a few questions
from her and would respect them in proper form. Boy, whatever
the hell that meant she thought to herself. She asked him
what he wanted with her. He looked at her and told her not
to ask stupid questions and to use her time wisely. “Do you
know who I am” she asked? “Of course” he said. “Why have you
chosen me”? “I have chosen you because of your strength”.
“Do you have any other submissive’s”? “I am glad you consider
yourself a submissive, but yes, I have others who do my bidding”.
“Who are you?” “You will call me Moser and I am the keeper
strength”. “How can I trust you?” “You can’t and never will”.
“Will I return tonight”? “Sorry but that depends on how
I feel and if you anger me”. “Will I ever return?” “You will
not be able to live without me.” He put up his hand as to say
that the questions have ended and he stood.


He swallowed his Jack and motioned for her to and she did
and he called her using one finger. She playfully said,
“you can make me cum with one finger”, and he said he could
make her cum with the touch of the butterfly. Again he motioned
to her to come to him and she did. She began to like him, his
mystery, the danger and his confidence. What was this butterfly
she said to herself? I don’t cum easy she thought and I don’t
think he knows who he is dealing with. He reached out to take
her hand and placed a stool in front of the table. She was
so confident in life but felt real exposed and inadequate
here. Naked and exposed and at his mercy, but she liked it.
He took her hand and walked her up the short set of stairs
leading to the table top. She stood there on it for a minute
and he told her to turn around, he wanted to see his new property.
As she turned he grabbed her ass and shook it. “Nice and firm”
he said! She thanked him. He then motioned for her to sit
and then lay down and she did. He put shackles on her and chained
her to all four corners of the table. Candidly she did not
like being completely tied up due to helplessness and he
could just cut her up with a knife and she was not into blood
and he obviously was. She did not think this was his motive
though. When she was secure he put a blind fold on her. It
was a great blind fold in the fact that you could not see any
light out of it what so ever and it was still comfortable.
He then placed something in her ears and it completely blocked
out all sound. The only thing she could hear was her own words
asking if he was practicing sensory deprivation, and then
there was silence. She could not see, she could not hear
and she could not move.


She sat waiting for his touch, waiting for the butterfly
but it never came. She laid there for at least an hour or two
and nothing. Frustrated she called his name in anger. Within
about two minutes, a ball gag was placed on her face and again there was silence and
no movement in the air. What the fuck she thought to herself,
what is this asshole doing, but she knew in her soul? Everyone
once in a while she could feel a insect crawl on her but nothing
for many hours and she fell asleep.


She woke to another bug on her thigh. She struggled to make
it go away and wondered when the hell he would return. She
felt the bug again and it tickled her and she flinched. Again
and again she felt it travel up her leg until she realized
it was not a bug and began to respond to his game. Her erogenous
zones were being played and she could feel the blood rush
to her crotch. Soon her nipples hardened and she knew she
again had his attention. For all of the time she spent lying
there his touch was so welcomed she could not explain. Without
senses, time lasted forever and every little sensation
was magnified by ten. She thought she was hallucinating
numerous times during the wait. She could feel his hot breath
against her neck and her pussy began to dampen. Somehow
he had her saluting and she was responding to the excitement.
The feather early was innocent and only a sensation, but
now he was running it over her nipples and her pussy began
to run, her nipples hardened and it seemed a whole lot colder
in the dungeon. Goose bumps riddled her body and every touch
of that feather made her wince. Again she could feel his
hot breath next to her neck and she lifted to its welcome.
The ball gage was removed.


What was that, she said to herself. Was that a kiss? Yes,
she felt it. It was a small kiss on her neck next to her ear
and she was alive. Just a tiny kiss, but the real physical
attention after many hours of being chained in one position
just made her shake. God would he kiss me again, please!
Her hormones were jumping and she needed something but
he would not touch her. It was then she felt his teeth in a
bite on her ear. God that fucking hurt, bringing her back
to reality….”fucking asshole” she yelled and then there
was nothing again for several hours. Why did she say that?
What was her thinking? Was she a dumb ass! Ok, she could feel
a little bit of blood running down her ear but who cares,
its’ the name of the game. How many times has she punished
and made someone bleed?


Again it was about two hours and she felt his presence again.
She pleaded for him not to leave and to hurt her in any way
he felt fit. She still could not see or hear but she was receptive
to anything he had to offer. She was definitely losing control
and wanted a little attention. It was then that she felt
his caress for the first time. His lips touched hers lightly
and she lifted to respond but he drew away. She was aching
for his touch but he was to sparing in his affections. Where
was he, when would he touch her next. “Please touch me with
the feather master” she said. His kisses again commenced
on her neck and chest. Her body was electrified and so receptive
to them she was almost Cumming when they were placed. Her
vagina was so wet it was running down her ass and she was dying
for it to be fucked. He kissed on down her chest and touched
her arms gently with his finger tips. Her goose bump riddled
body was shouting, “Please fuck me!” He did kiss one of her
nipples and then bit it, but it was pain well accepted as
her endorphins rushed. She hissed but asked for another
bite. He kissed around her breasts but did not return to
her nipple but the throbbing still rode on. She was dying
for his kiss, but it was preceded by the slight touch of his
nose being dragged lightly down her body. His nose was killing
her. Killing her because it was like a telegraph as to where
the viper was but not quite where it would strike! His fingers
danced on her flesh making goose bumps everywhere they
ran exaggerating the sensation by 100 fold. Every point
of energy from pain to pleasure and beyond was accenting
his play. He was a master at sensation and he knew it. He slowly
advanced down her body to her hips and kissed above her pussy
in her small tuft of blond pubic hair. If her hands were not
tied she would suffocate him in her crevice but she was helpless
adding to her frustration and desire. His hands moved to
her chest now and played with her nipples lightly. If this
was the touch of the butterfly, she thought it should be
named the kiss of frustration. She was practically Cumming
and he had not even touched her pussy! His hands traveled
to her sides with his soft touch and he faded from one thigh
to another, kissing and running his nose on the inside.
Every time he switched legs he would brush her clit and it
drove her wild! Never would he dull her nerve endings. Her
cum steamed down her ass and he knew it. It was then that he
actually licked her clit or at least the hood anyways. It
ran up and down her hood as if it was the greatest pawn of his
interest. She held back her orgasm as long as she could.
Her tensions were so high she was about to explode and …the
fucking asshole stopped! She was about to have the greatest
orgasm of her life and he stopped! What the fuck was he doing?
Although she was vocal during the escalation, the new words
that came out of her mouth were not in the same context. Words
like mother fucker and dick fuck and other major vulgarity
of offenses. She would finish herself but she was tied up
and he knew it. He removed her blind fold and ear plugs and
allowed her to see his satisfied face. She knew then that
he was the master. Oh, she chastised him with her voice,
but she really knew deep down that he would deal the orgasms
and not her. She could never in her life make herself feel
that way. She at this moment hated him for his ability but
knew it would not help. She was his submissive, and if she
wanted what he had, she would have to beg and plead for it.
As her anger and drive died into nothing, she knew she was
completely conquered. When he left the room she wept, never
feeling so much like a victim. She would refer to him as master
and she knew why. He had something she wanted and it was an
eye opening experience. She was not even sure any longer
if she could be a dominant. Life had changed for her and she
waited for his return. Not in haste but in need.


Light cracked the darkness and she heard a bustle. She wondered
to herself what time it was. How long had she been here? No
daylight could be seen from the cellar and she had lost all
track of time. Was it him? Then she heard the thud of feet
coming down the wooden stairway. I had to be him. She hoped
it was him. What would happen if it was not him? Fear rose
until she heard the strike of a match and a candle was lit.
She could see a large figure but her eyes were not adjusted
and the back was to her. As the candles were further lit she
could see his face. She was so happy it was him she almost
cried out in elation. Partially due to her disorientation
because of her condition, but maybe, just maybe he would
give her some attention. How long had she been there she
did not know and her back was soar from sitting in the same
position for ages it seemed.


He had broken her will. She did not care about revenge or
domination. She did not care about getting back to where
ever she thought was home. She would not even request to
be untied. She wanted his domination. She wanted his touch.
She wanted him to make her behave more, deeper and give her
pleasure, finish what he started! Just don’t stop handling
her, be her Dom.


As he approached the table she whispered, “Master”. He
smiled and said, “Pixie speaks the language of a slave.”
“Oh please master” she said. “Please master what?” “Moser”
she said, “Moser”. “What does this Pixie want?” He said.
“For you to please me master” she said. “Your training has
just begun Pixie, pleasure is for good slaves that respect
their masters and you do not respect me” he said. “I will
do anything master wishes Moser”. She had been there for
some time and had to go to the bathroom. She said, “Master
can his slave please request to use the bathroom”? He replied,
“No slave, you have not finished your training tonight
and humiliation will be part. You may go where you lay.”
“No master, please master, please allow your Pixie to be
in dispose”? He turned and again went up stairs. She cried
again as she peed on herself in humiliation. The pee settled
on the table around her engulfing her back legs and hair.
It smelled terrible to her but she knew this was part of her
will to be broken. She never again would allow him to see
her weaknesses again or so she thought.


He soon returned with a dish some food on it and a large goblet.
She although humiliated sitting in her own stench, she
was hungry, real hungry and it took precedence over everything
she thought. He placed the plate and goblet on the table
on the side of her and she could smell the goulash and beer.
Her mouth watered and she was praying for him to release
her. He walked around the table slowly and unlocked her
shackles. Her heart was beating almost as fast as when she
was about to cum. He told her to bow to his boot. Slowly she
rose from the table with her hair matted from urine and her
joints stiff with immobility. She slightly stretched
but did not want to disturb him and shuffled to her knees
and placed her face to his boot. “Who is your master Pixie?”
“You are Moser” she replied. Stay where you are he grumbled
and grabbed the chair from earlier and pushed it up to her
and sat down. He moved his plate onto her back and began to
eat. Agony filled her soul and she began to weep as he slugged
off of the goblet. Beer spilt down his chin and landed on
her back and she cried more. He shouted, “Do not move slave,
if you spill my beer I will lock you in a cage for a week.” She
quietly cried to herself as he finished his meal. She knew
now that hiding things or showing weakness to or from him
would never again seem valid. She was truly his, nobody
else’s. She would never be a dominant again.


When he was finished he threw her a few small pieces of meat
from his plate that landed on the ground on the cold stone
floor. He stood from the chair and placed his goblet next
to her on the ground and told her she could eat. She moved
to a crossed leg position and ate her pieces of meat that
he gave her and she thanked him. She swallowed the beer he
gave her and stood with the plate and goblet in hand and asked
him what he would like his slave to do with it and he said to
put it on the table.


When she turned around he had his cock out in his hands and
it was hard. He said to her that he loved the smell of a urine
soaked slave and it made him stiff. Suck my cock wench. Surprisingly
she was excited. This was her first chance at feeling him
again, and his cock was welcome as her pulse raced. It was
rather large, eight inches in size to her guess and thick
enough to make her mouth open wide. She slowly sat him down
in the chair not to alarm him and knelt between his legs.
As she tasted it made her hot. Her pussy was wet again and
not from pee this time. She hid it but she played with herself
as she sucked it, slightly playing with her clit so not to
let him know. Her senses were running wild. She was great
at giving head and he would know it soon enough. She knew
exactly where the nerve endings were in a dick and she tantalized
them with her mouth. She never had to use her hands because
that was for women who did not know what they were doing and
finally failed and resorted to the hand. She rolled her
head and provided plenty of lubrication from her saliva
sliding up and down responding to his breathing for pressure
and speed. As his pulse began to race she would ride her mouth
down to the base and up again driving him crazy! Her tongue
was like a serpent and ran it over the collar of his dick and
made sure the head was running on the roof of her mouth every
thrust. He could not help but hold the back of her head and
he tried to push her down onto it further but she could take
the distance without a gag. He let out a grunt and exhaled
as he released in her mouth. She knew better than to stop
before he was finished and swallowed every bit of his cum.
Upon his ejaculation, she had worked herself into a frenzy
playing with her clit. She needed him in her right now. She
stood and lay back on the table and he said good slave and
mounted her accordingly. She did not notice it but the table
was extra short and if made easy for fucking. He slid his
cock in her and she almost came right there. She was so pent
up and turned herself on the feeling of his dick in her pussy
was outrageous. He thrust in sideways and to the top and
down pushing his penis up into her g-spot making her shudder
with every thrust. He was the fucking master! “Master”
she called “Master” and she began to ejaculate herself.
Moisture spewed out onto the table as she came. Never had
she felt this way before and never had she gotten so wet.
She shook and came over and over for five minutes it seemed
and she collapsed onto the table in exhaustion, body shaking
and convulsing. She wanted to hold him and tell him she loved
him but she could not move. She was mumbling Moser, Moser
over and over again. This was the experience of a lifetime
and she would never forget it and would never be the same
without him. He knew her and what she needed. Broken she
was, and thank god because always being up tight and in power
made her lose touch with her needs. She needed to understand
that being mastered was greater than life itself. Training
was the training of her body for her and not her body for him.
Training was conditioning her body to respond to her and
not to him. He knew this and she now was the pupil. She needed
him and needed him badly. He will always be her master and
she would always be his slave!


When she could focus again, she looked up and he was not there.
She called his name and there was no answer. Silence filled
her ears and she grew concerned. She looked around the empty
basement and there was no more any hint of his existence.
The goblet, the plate or the bondage gear was gone and the
candles were almost burnt out. She yelled for him and there
was no answer. A cold fear overcame her body and she quickly
ran to the top of the stairs. She was naked and in the middle
of no place. How would she return to her life and civilization?
When she rounded the top of the stairs, her clothes were
neatly folded on the destroyed kitchen counter. She quickly
put them on in haste and ran outside the front door. Quickly
to the left and then to the right and she saw the limo. Relief
shot through her and she got her composure again. She hand
brushed her hair into a semi satisfactory shape, her urine
soaked knap would provide and walked confidently to the
limo. Nobody got out and she pulled on the handle to the back
seat expecting to see him sitting there. It was broad daylight
now but she could not see into the back seat. The door opened
and it was empty. There was a glass of champagne poured and
sitting between the seats and she got in and closed the door.
She lifted the glass of champagne and drank a sip from it
and smiled. This was the greatest time of her life. When
would she see him again?


The limo began to move and she sat in silence gloating to
herself, where was Kenstrife and Lashing? Soon the limo
pulled up to her house and she got out and closed the door.
The limo pulled away and she walked to her front door. When
she opened it she heard a quick shuffle and the two subs came
running down the stairs. Shock was on their face and immediately
they fell to their knees and offered their assistance.
She said she wanted to be left alone and went to her room for
a shower. When she got there the computer screen was still
on where she left it. When she went to shut it off, the screen
saver popped up and said, “I am owned”.

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Member Responses Post Your Comment

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Excellent...you know what you are talking about....

1/7/2009

Members can vote on this response!

VERY DELIGHTFUL STORY has many real aspects to it. Kinda
like MY treatment of a sub male's frist encounter only
little less intense. Mistress Dee

10/10/2009